


Give A Little Love

by slash4femme



Category: Star Trek: The Original Series
Genre: A Piece of the Action with ladies, Always!girl McCoy, Always!girl Spock, F/F, Genderbending, Sexy Times, always!girl Kirk, hot suit porn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-28
Updated: 2014-03-28
Packaged: 2018-01-17 09:23:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,775
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1382314
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/slash4femme/pseuds/slash4femme
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>McCoy is a doctor not a showgirl even if Spock is a rent-boy, evidently.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Give A Little Love

**Author's Note:**

> Originally written in September 2009
> 
> Takes place during and after [A Piece of the Action](http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=oRNqYdg6Muk&feature=PlayList&p=8ELWBzGqnHw), which has been changed a little for obvious reasons. [Prompted](http://community.livejournal.com/st_tos_kink/485.html?thread=112869#t112869) at st_tos_kink and inspired by this lovely piece of [fanart](http://community.livejournal.com/st_tos_kink/485.html?thread=136933#t136933) for the same prompt. 

“Sir you are employing a double negative.” Spock informs the mob boss in the same tone of voice she’d use if speaking to a very small, dimwitted child. McCoy resists the urge to turn and gape at her. Here they are having been taken captive for the second time, with no idea where Kirk is or if she’s still alive. They are being held at gunpoint by two scary looking women, ‘broads’, on a planet ruled by 1920s Chicago mobsters and Spock’s worrying about grammar. McCoy tries hard not to grind her teeth. Judging by the tone of conversation over the next couple minutes the mob boss hadn’t found the remark appropriate either. McCoy is just starting to think this time they are definitely going to end up dead or at the very least stuck in another warehouse, when the door burst open and Kirk comes through waving a gun. The two scary looking women drop there’s as Kirk takes a menacing step toward them shaking her blond curls out of her eyes. McCoy lets herself thinks they might actually be go home without any of them sustaining any major damage. She should have known better though.

Kirk straightens one of the scary looking ‘broads’ skirts which has a slit that goes all the way up to mid-thigh on Kirk and perches a fedora jauntily on top of her mass of curls. She looks very pleased with herself and McCoy sighs. She picks up one of the ‘broads’ guns and tried not to think about what she must look like, in her knee-high stander issue boots, the other native woman’s skirt, blouse and pinstriped jacket. The jacket in particular hugs McCoy’s bust in a way she isn’t totally comfortable with and she tries to tell herself that it isn’t any worse then the damned Starfleet uniforms, but it just feels like attention is being drawn to her bosom and quite frankly McCoy had never needed that kind of help before. She looks over at Spock who’s straightening her own pinstriped jacket. Spock had insisted on wearing trousers arguing they were a more logical choice then a skirt, and McCoy tries not to think about the fact that the last person to wear those particular trousers had been a rent-boy because that leads to other thoughts this is totally the wrong time and place for. Still her eyes skim up Spock’s body, over long, long elegant legs now show-cased by the tight, flared, pants, all straight lines and slim waist . . . McCoy drags her mind away from going there and self-consciously pulls at the bottom of the jacket again. Instead of thinking about Spock, McCoy chooses to glare at Kirk, she’s far too old to be playing dress-up damn it, they all are. Also the skirt is very constricting at the waist emphasizing her natural hourglass figure, and maybe Jean T. Kirk can pull that off, but McCoy is a doctor not a showgirl. Even if Spock does seem to be a rent-boy . . . and she’d promised herself she wasn’t going to go there right now. Spock straightens her fedora further over her ears and tightens her tie while McCoy tries not to stare.

“Stay here Bones and watch the prisoners.” Kirk waves a gun at the little group of mobsters. “Spock and I are going to go get Kracko.”

“Fine.” McCoy points her own gun at the prisoners. “Just come back in one piece, both of you.”

Spock raises one eyebrow and Kirk grins one hand on her hip to emphasize them even more then the skirt is already doing. McCoy sighs again and chooses to interpret both actions as ‘of course Bones we won’t get ourselves blown up or shot, and then expect you to put us back together again later.’

“We’ll be back before you know it.” Kirk calls McCoy only shakes her head.

They are back and thankfully in one piece, just in time to be taken captive again and then stun some locals and by that point Kirk has gotten into the whole gangster thing, rolling her hips, swinging a machine gun around and talking in one of the worst imitations of a Chicago mobster McCoy has ever heard. Luckily in the end no one dies, or even gets hurt so McCoy counts it as a success and resigns herself to Kirk talking like an old earth Chicago mobster for a while.

“Ok, you’re good to go.”   
Kirk, still in her gangster outfit, hops off the biobed. “We did pretty good.” She grins at both McCoy and Spock and McCoy nods.

“Yeah we did.” She turns to Spock. “Your turn.”

“We were not injured Doctor, so I see no logical reason for this.” Spock informs her arching one elegant eyebrow as McCoy scans her and Kirk heads for the door. McCoy waits until Kirk has made it out of sickbay and her scan shows that Spock is in fact fine before grabbing the Vulcan woman by the shoulders and kissing her. Spock’s lips are soft and pliant opening under McCoy’s and McCoy takes the opportunity to map it thoroughly, running her tongue along lips, teeth, the roof of Spock’s mouth before stroking along Spock’s tongue. Spock’s hands grip McCoy’s upper arms and finally they brake apart to breathe.

“Not that it is unwelcome, but may I inquire as to the cause of this sudden display of affection?” Spock inquires staring down at McCoy.

“Those clothes.” McCoy strokes one hand up the fabric of Spock’s pants and Spock’s own hands drift down to grip McCoy’s hips.McCoy kisses Spock again, forceful and demanding and Spock gives as good as she gets, pushing their bodies close together.

“Lynnea.” Spock breathes when they pull back from the kiss, and McCoy takes the opportunity to kiss down Spock’s neck, sucking a mark low on Spock’s shoulder through the old fashioned dress shirt she’s still wearing. Spock makes a soft sound and then McCoy is being lifted to sit on the biobed and Spock’s hands, inhumanly hot, are running up her legs, starting at the top of the knee high Starfleet boots and tracing up, pushing the foreign material of her skirt up as Spock goes. McCoy groans at the feeling of Spock’s hands against her thighs and automatically spreads her legs as far as the skirt will allow. Spock leans forward and kisses her again and McCoy grabs the fedora Spock’s still wearing and tosses it across sickbay, allowing her to stroke her fingers through Spock’s short black hair, trace one pointed ear. Spock makes the ghost of a sound against McCoy’s lips and McCoy tugs gently at the dark hair under her hands. She wonders briefly what Spock would look like with longer hair. McCoy herself wears her hair shoulder length, while Spock always insists that short hair is practical and therefore logical. She doesn’t seem to mind McCoy’s hair though. Spock kisses down McCoy’s neck, pulls at McCoy’s own tie, manages to pull it free and toss it aside before opening the first three buttons of the unfamiliar blouse. McCoy gasps when Spock kisses across the top of her breast and then leans back as Spock’s fingers slip underneath McCoy’s skirt again pulling at her underwear, pulling them down around her knees. She raises her hips as Spock pushes the skirt to bunch around McCoy’s waist, then those long fingered hand are back on her thighs and McCoy closes her eyes, expecting it but still not ready for the jolt of please when Spock goes to her knees and licks right there.

“Spock . . . God.” McCoy leans back tossing auburn hair out of her face, eyes closed, lips parted as Spock’s tongue flick at her clit, draws up and then down, a long cool path, between her legs right where McCoy is on fire. Her hands clench around the edge of the biobed which is going crazy with all the mixed reading it’s getting. McCoy de-clenches one of her hands from the edge of the bed and groped across her own thigh to find one of Spock’s hands. McCoy gently strokes he fingers across the back of Spock’s hand and feels the taller woman’s body jerk slightly feels Spock’s tongue flick against her clit hard, circle, and then do it again. On one of McCoy’s thighs their fingers meet, and McCoy strokes across Spock’s fingers, and Spock’s mouth is just pressing between McCoy’s legs now. McCoy unlocks her other hand and grabs Spock’s shoulder, pulling at her, pulling her back up until they can kiss again, and McCoy tastes herself on the other woman’s lips.

She licks at Spock’s mouth twining one arm around Spock’s waist pulls her close, until their bodies are flush, and she can feel Spock’s narrow hips, small breasts pressing against her own more curved frame. She pulls Spock even closer mouthing cross Spock’s neck, twisting her fist in Spock’s tie and Spock gets the idea pressing one leg between McCoy’s still parted thighs, climbing partly onto the biobed in the process. McCoy rocks against Spock’s leg, the unfamiliar feel of Spock’s trousers against her bare skin. She grinds her hips down, as Spock pushes up, kissing McCoy’s face and hair, and McCoy pulls on Spock’s tie until they can kiss on the lips again. McCoy breaks the kiss to grind down harder, rocking back and forth against Spock, then she’s coming, Spock’s arm strong around her waist, her mouth against Spock’s throat. They sit together for a moment, before Spock climbs off the biobed, straightening her clothes and McCoy pulls back up her underwear and tries to straighten her skirt.

“Doctor.” Spock smoothes one hand down her shirt and McCoy tries not to stare, again. “I suggest we do not make a habit of participating in sexual intercourse in sickbay.”

McCoy nods, pushing her hair out of her face. “Probably for the best, the last thing I need is for a member of my staff to walk in on us.”

“Indeed.” Spock arches one eyebrow. “And I would suggest Doctor that we both change out of these costumes. They are hardly regulation.”

McCoy nods and slides off the biobed. “Yeah.”

Spock turns toward the doorway and then turns back watching McCoy fish around on the floor for her scanner. Spock takes two long strides and when McCoy looks up the Vulcan is looming over her, very close.

“I will see you tonight Doctor.” Spock tells her softly offering her two fingers in a Vulcan kiss and McCoy grins standing and stroking across Spock’s fingers with her own.

“Count on it darlin’.”

Spock doesn’t smile of course, but it’s a near thing.   


 


End file.
